The Club
by youngwriter56
Summary: Rose is in love with the head boy but drawn to the enigmatic Scorpius Malfoy. James is too popular for his health and Albus is suffocated by Parkinson. Enter Ted Lupin, potions master, resurrecting the notorious Slug Club with new rules and new direction
1. The world doesn't revolve around you

_SLAP_

James Potter gripped his left cheek, now glowing scarlet, as he stumbled a little to his right.

"How could you _do _this to me?!" Kat, his now ex-girlfriend, screeched, attracting a small circle of witnesses from neighboring compartments.

"I don't know, baby, I just kind of… did it." James stood up a little straighter, combing his hands through his tousled hair. "I mean, it's been great. You were great. You were bloody fantastic, really. We had a good run, but I don't know how you're not tired of me yet."

Tears streamed down Kat's face, her impeccable make-up ruined. "You don't tire of these things! What kind of person are you?! After seven perfect months, after all we've been through…"

"Like I said, it was fun. There's really no other reason…. I don't know how else to explain it to you. It's just that after this summer apart, I realized I didn't really miss you." Head were now poking out of every compartment in their half of the train car. What better entertainment than a good old fashioned James Potter styled break-up?

"I _hate _you! I never want to see you EVER again!" Kat screamed.

"Now I don't see how that's possible… it's a small school and I get around a bit."

_SLAP_

"You sick bastard… after all I've done for you… after all those times I've covered for you…" Kat broke down into another fit of tears.

James awkwardly stretched out his arm to pat her on her shoulder, ignoring the stinging in his cheek. "Now, now… there's someone out there for you. It's not like you dated me for me to start with."

"We were in _love_. _I _was in love. Biggest mistake of my life."

"There, there… we all make mistakes." His seemingly reassuring words only drover her to the ground, a sobbing mess.

"What's going on here?" A voice appeared from the crowd that had formed, parting the sea.

James turned to face his brother. "And if it isn't our wonderful prefect."

"What did you do, James?" Albus asked, eyeing the scene in front of him.

"Nothing out of the norm, really. I mean, who honestly didn't see this coming?" James asked, half rhetorically, but in all seriousness. Nobody spoke; seven months was as long as seven years in James Potter times and nobody expected it to go on any longer. .

Kat's friends finally came to the rescue, helping her up and taking her into the closest, secluded compartment. Sighing as he watched their retreating backs, Albus turned to his brother with a frown.

"Do you enjoy doing this?"

"Not quite. Contrary to your beliefs, little brother, I'm not exactly evil. Just honest." James watched the crowd disperse back to their own lives, most likely gossiping and chattering madly about the recent incident—as if there was nothing more important in the world than James Potter's new bachelorhood.

"Just don't do anything to cause me trouble. You're the one who's supposed to be looking after me but it's always me cleaning up your doings."

Strolling down the aisles, James peered into every window for an open compartment with his brother behind him. "I never asked you to come, Al. I never asked for any of this." He flung open the door to the last compartment in the row, occupied by two second years who quickly scurried away upon seeing him. "Where's Lils?"

"With her friends, I'd assume." Al sat down across James who was now sprawled over one side of their compartment, legs propped up on the walls of the train. "Listen, I have to go to my duties but just… keep quiet, okay? Don't stir up any more drama."

"Drama comes to me, my man. It's our fate."

"Only because you let it come to you. Admit it: you live for this. All the rumors, stories, fans, enemies… you wouldn't cause so much trouble if you weren't in love with all the attention."

"Are you just going to analyze my popularity now? Or do you have prefect duties to attend to?"

"Don't worry, I'm leaving." Albus stood up, frowning once more at his brother on his way out. "Just out of curiosity though, what was wrong with Kat?"

James chuckled and folded his arms across his chest. "The same thing that was wrong with the one before her. And the one before that. It's just this inevitable pattern that we've been blessed with. You just don't know because you haven't grown the balls to score that pretty prefect partner of yours."

Al rolled his eyes. "I never should have asked."

"I'm not joking, either. I can forgive you for being a Slytherin, but if you let that girl put you in the friend zone, I will never be able to look at you the same."

"Grow up, James. The world doesn't revolve around-" The door of their private compartment swung open, interrupting Al and making James look up from his blissful solitude.

"I'm Heather. You want me as your girlfriend."

Al put his hands up in mock forfeit and booked it out of the compartment as fast as possible.

James smirked. "Do you want to tell me why, spunk?"

To start with, she was a blonde. James Potter rarely chased blondes. They were often way too catty. But she was magnificent – a James Potter arm candy material type of girl. Beautiful, leggy, magnetic: every girl's dream.

"Word is Kat Grosner is out of the picture?"

"And how does that concern you, sweet?"

"You've had your go with all the eligible girls in your year. Katherine Grosner was the last noteworthy girl in your year and you knew that; that's why you stuck it out with her for so long. As they say, Potter, it's better to fish the big fish in the small pond than to go after a small fish in an ocean." Heather sat down in front of him, crossing her legs, giving him an excruciating glimpse of her legs.

"You've got guts, coming in here to tell me I have to date you, a sixth year I don't even know."

"Since when has that stopped you? Cindy Mills: seventh year airhead. You never dated these girls for their kind hearts and sharp brains. I'm doing you a favor, Potter. You don't have to dig around the rest of the other girls; you can have me." Heather sat up straighter, flashing him an immaculate smile, and switched legs, giving him a further glimpse at her endless legs.

So it had come to a point when James Potter no longer had to chase a girl. They had officially begun chasing him. "You're not very good for my ego."

"Good."

Their eyes met. A stare down – more or less, he was evaluating the ravishing girl in front of him: forward, sexy, confident, willing, but too proud to be desperate. There was no doubt she was molded to be his perfect arm candy. In fact, she was even more glamorous than a few of his previous ex-girlfriends.

"Come here." James beckoned.

Obediently, the girl in front of him stood up, not bothering to pull down her school skirt that had ridden up, and took three steps to stand before him.

James shook his head. "Too easy."

"No," Heather moved forward, stepping in between his legs, "just claiming what is mine."

Chuckling, James reached up to grab her waist in his right hand and brought her down to his level. "You have big shoes of many women to fill."

She adjusted herself on his thighs, wrapping her long legs around his torso and her arms around his neck. "Don't disappoint me."

He fiddled with the hems of her shirt – the air between them became limited, the familiar sensation of arousal intoxicating. "Same goes for you, vixen." Guiding her head down by her slender neck, James brought his lips to her ear. She tensed for the smallest second, then relaxed her smooth shoulders and nestled her head into the crook of his neck. Smirking, James whispered delicately to her ear.

"You're mine now."

OOOOO

_Smack_

"I've been waiting for you, big boy."

Shocked and violated, Albus whipped around, his hands reflexively going to his previously abused butt.

"That was uncalled for, Parkinson."

"Miss me?" Sasha grinned devilishly, jumping up and wrapping herself around him.

Al stumbled, caught off guard. "Mmf – geroff!" Prying her off, the little vixen began groping his body, circling him.

"You grew taller. And your hair… have you been working out? Where did all this back muscle come from?"

"Arrrgh!" Ripping himself away from her, Al straightened himself out and resumed his trek to the prefect meeting with his (unfortunate) partner tagging behind him, giggling feverishly.

"But indeed, you haven't changed at all. Same old, prickly Albus Potter. How I missed you so this summer."

"I, on the other hand, did not."

"Lies. Always lies."

"It's the truth, Parkinson. Never had so much peace and comfort in my life and I'm a Potter. Hope that says something."

Sasha laughed, "Always the funny one. You're just my type, you know."

"You're not mine."

"Oh please, unless your type is leatherbound and named textbook, you don't have a type. You see, we're perfect for each other."

"You've been saying that since day one last year, and I fail to see how that is true."

"I can feel it. There's just one problem though."

"What, I'm too smart?"

Eventually, Sasha caught up to him and linked her arm through his. "No, you're single."

"And you're loose. More the reason we are not 'perfect for each other.'"

"That hurts, Al. I'm not loose, I just crave attention because my parents abandoned me as a child and I grew up without unconditional love."

"Yes, and you grew up in poverty, raised yourself, and had to learn at a young age to use your body to be fed. And while I'm very sorry for your hardships, you really need to get _off_!" With that, Albus yanked his arm away, brushing it off as if brushing off dust from a countertop.

"I will make you love me one day like I do."

"You mean, see you as a key to a vast Gringotts vault and a prestigious family name? I, more than anyone, know of your gold digging tendencies."

She laughed, tossing her head back – the one thing he did enjoy about her: how genuinely she laughed. Though he would never tell her that. "I don't deny it. Yet here we are, hand in hand." Sasha Parkinson had managed to slip her hand into his, intertwining their fingers.

Albus sighed and faced the last door in the corridor. "I give up."

"Perseverance, Potter, you taught me that yourself." She swung open the door, dragging him in.

"Right on time, Albus, Sasha. Take a seat."

"Hello, Professor Longbottom." Sasha chirped, seating the pair down in front of his cousin.

Al sat, catching a breath. Rose, smiled at him, but he was unable to return it.

Sasha Parkinson was just exhausting.

OOOOO

"Rose! Hello? Earth to Rose?"

Rose flinched a little and jerked her head to face Lily who was wildly waving her arms in front of her face.

"What?"

"Took you long enough. What were you drowning yourself in?" Lily turned over her shoulder to figure out who the apple of Rose's eye was. It was very simple. "Ahh. Still?"

Rose shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've only been in love with him since walking into your first prefect meeting last year." Lily smirked, glancing once again at Dan Finnigan.

"I admire his abilities, that's all. He's the head boy; we're supposed to look up to him."

"Sure, we do lookup to him. But not from a pedestal like you. I mean, I acknowledge his leadership and charm, but my goodness Rose, he's not a God."

"I don't put him on a pedestal."

"Sure. And Hugo does not eat too much." Lily said, sneering at Hugo who looked up once from his plate to stick his tongue out.

"Look, it's just respect okay? He's a nice, smart, and talented peer."

"And I respect your persistence. But there's no doubt you want him as more than just a peer. Don't deny it – everybody knows."

"What?"

"It takes more than five minutes to get your attention every time he walks into a room. You turn that horrendously adorable pink color every time he talks to you. You would kill someone for him. You're madly, irrevocably in love with him and it's written all over your face riiiiiiiiiight now." Lily remarked, as the headmaster silenced the hall and Dan stood up. Rose immediately flushed.

"Before our head boy and girl lead everyone out, I'd like to introduce the new potions master."

Chatter broke out in the great hall. There had been much speculation all summer over who would take Slughorn's spot after he finally retired after more than twenty years.

"Everyone, please welcome, Ted Tonks."

Applause broke out – cheers in a few particular parts of the great hall.

"Ted?!" Lily gasped, as her cousin's boyfriend strolled to his seat. "Why didn't he tell us all summer?"

Even Hugo had paused his feasting to gape at his new potions master.

Rose chuckled. "Of course… he _would_ keep this a secret to surprise everyone."

"Didn't know he was a good student…" Hugo grumbled.

"He was decent, dad says. And I do remember him saying he was exceptionally talented at potions." Rose added, applauding.

"Well, guess this makes my life easier. I never liked potions much." Lily pumped her fist in the air. "I love having famous parents with the right connections."

"I'm sure he's not going to play favorites. It's his first year… he'll be careful."

"Plus, you've only bothered him. I'm his favorite cousin." Hugo declared, pieces of potato flying out of his mouth.

"Hugo, you're disgusting." Lily said, frowning at her uncle's split replica. "I'm going to go owl dad. See you back in the common room, Rose."

Rose nodded, standing up as well as the feast came to an end. "First years! Follow me!"

"Are you Rose Weasley?" A small first year boy asked, tugging on her school robe.

"Yes I am!" Rose beamed. "Just follow me to the common room if you're a Gryffindor."

"Well, someone outside told me to send for you. He said it was urgent."

Rose frowned, "Did he tell you a reason?"

The boy shrugged. "Name was… Dave? Dan? Dan, that's it. That's all I know; just that it was urgent."

Rose bit her lip, reflexively turning pink. "Colin, can you take over?" Her prefect partner nodded, gathering all the eager first years.

Squeezing through the large crowds, Rose hurried out of the great hall. Dan Finnigan. Dan Finnigan asked for her – urgently. Either he was in trouble or… a rush of nerves washed over her and she ran faster out of the hall, away from the vast chatter and mob herding toward their respective dorms.

Every step thundered under her, her heart beating faster. Dan…

"Looking for someone, love?"

And it stopped. Suddenly.

"Neil."

A figure stepped out from the shadows, smirking. "Missed me?"

"What do you want, Neil."

"My question exactly. Where were you running so hurriedly to?"

Rose took a few steps away, only making him come closer. "Nothing – I… Someone's waiting, love to chat but I really have to…"

"Who… Dan Finnigan?"

"No – no – how…" seeing him smirk, her heart dropped. "It was you."

"Can't deny, I enjoyed watching you hurry here so excited." Neil grabbed her wrist and pinned her to the cold, stone wall. "It was like you were chasing me, for once."

"Neil, don't be ridiculous, let me go."

"I'm tired of waiting, Weasley. I'm just asking for one date."

"Come on, Neil. Let me go."

Neil leaned in closer, the air between them thin. "I've been watching you for two years now. But you only have eyes for my big brother."

Rose twisted her head away, as the space between them tightened. She couldn't breathe. He was everywhere, unavoidable, looming.

"Problem, Finnigan?"

His grip on her loosened slightly, letting her rip her hand away from Neil's grasp.

"Pleasure, Malfoy."

"Bullying a defenseless girl… how pathetic of you." Scorpius appeared out of nowhere, his face dark as usual.

"Lurking in every shadow of the school like usual… not something to be proud of either."

"Can't be proud of being a desperate stalker either, can you?"

Neil stepped away, and Rose escaped from his body blockade, scurrying to Scorpius' side.

Neil sneered, glaring at the intruder. "Go back under your rock, freak. Mind your business."

"Wow, that's terrifying. You really got me now." Rose could feel a small smirk – she often heard her father exclaim drunkenly of the Malfoy smirk – creeping up on Scorpius' eternally unseen face.

"Learn to not meddle in people's affairs, Malfoy."

"How about you learn how to actually woo a girl and do it right instead of harassing one?"

Neil stepped forward, his eyes harsh and rolling his fists.

"I don't recommend that, Finnigan. You _do _know who you're dealing with."

Rose couldn't tell who moved first but in a blink of an eye, Neil was held in a headlock, splayed against the wall. Everything had happened so fast; she was still trying to recover from her encounter with Neil and now there was Scorpius Malfoy involved and…

"Malfoy, get your hands off my brother."

And now the man of her dreams.

Scorpius released Neil with one last shove, stepping away from the scene.

"Rose, what is going on?" Dan asked, his confused eyes landing on her – on only her.

"I… well, they uh…"

"This has nothing to do with Weasley, Finnigan. Just give me my punishment, take your brother and leave." Scorpius grumbled, dusting off his robes.

"Dan, let's go." Neil confirmed, also brushing off his clothes.

Dan stayed put, surveying the scene. He glanced once again at Rose, then at his brother, back to Malfoy. "Detention, Malfoy. And walk Miss Weasley to her dormitory. Don't let me see you harassing another student again or I will speak with your Head."

Scorpius shrugged.

"I don't know what you were doing here, Rose, but I suggest you go back and complete your prefect duties." Dan said, focusing his intense gaze on her again. She was lucky they were in such a dark corner of the ground, as she could feel her face flushing crimson.

She cleared her throat and mustered, "I will, thanks, Dan."

Nodding, Dan turned to his brother. "Let's go. We're going to have a talk."

Rose watched the two Finnigans leave, still shuddering at Dan's words. How was it she could be so infatuated with one while deathly avoiding the other?

"Anytime now, Weasley."

She snapped out of her thoughts, turning to face her unexpected savior for the night. "You didn't have to take the blame. I could have explained to him…"

"That what, his brother was sexually harassing you and Scorpius Malfoy came to save you from the big bad Neil Finnigan? Of course he'd believe that." Scorpius walked away, toward the Gryffindor common room. Rose was planted on the spot, still deep in thought and so utterly confused. "If you truly feel bad, you shouldn't waste my time like you are now."

"Y-you can leave. You don't have to walk me."

"Forget it. Are you going to move or do I have to carry you now, too?"

Scorpius turned and began taking long strides away, this time with Rose on his trail.

"Thanks."

He didn't answer her. She didn't expect him to. So far tonight, she had heard him speak more words than she had heard him say in the six years she had known him—not known him, per say. She never really knew him. Nobody did.

They walked in silence until she reached her familiar portrait. He leaned against the wall next to the large frame, waiting for her to catch up.

"Why did you help me?"

He stared at her for a second, his shockingly gray eyes piercing her soft brown ones. It felt like eternity he was staring, and for some reason, she could not stop either, as if she was pulled into his gaze like a magnetic force. For a moment, she forgot everything. She was falling into a sea of mercury…

"The world doesn't revolve around you."

He almost whispered it. Then gave her a final nod and strode away.

Rose somehow muttered the password, stumbled in and up into her room. Flinging her robe on her chair, she crept into her bed and sank in, the events of her first night back still reeling in her head. All the encounters, out of everything that had happened, Malfoy's last words rang through her mind.

Reeling, reeling, still reeling, she eventually fell asleep thinking about Dan.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N

Good to be back on fanfiction… it's really been a long hiatus hasn't it.

I can't really describe where I've been and what I'm doing with all my unfinished stories. It's been over a year now, I think, since I last updated and I'm really sorry. I don't really have an excuse except maybe that I started college.

I had this idea after rereading the seventh book yesterday, and I've been working on this all day now to get this to all of you as my new years gift. I've been MIA, no doubt. Hopefully, this can be a start of a new string of works.

To any of my old readers, I'm just truly sorry. I do hope I do get around to finishing my other stories, but I think I've honestly just tired of original Harry Potter shippings, which is why I've started the second generation stories. This is a really refreshing break from trying to dig out some original D/G content.

Hope this works out because I've already fallen in love with some of my new characters… (: Happy new years, everyone and please don't forget to review!

-Yours truly


	2. Apologies

James Potter enjoyed sitting alone at dinner for many reasons.

"James Potter, you promised me you'd owl me this summer and I don't recall getting a single letter from you. You're SOO mean, I hate you! And I heard what you did to Kat – you're a monster!" The bouncy Fiona Finch-Fletchley settled into the empty seat next to James, grasping his arm tightly. "That must be why I like you so much.."

This was one of them.

"Fiona, please, I need my arm to eat."

"Oh James, did you miss me at all?"

"No."

"You and all your no's… drives me crazy."

"As do you."

She pulled back to smack his arm – his good arm. "You're so _mean_! And _sooo _cute at the same time, I just don't know what to do with myself!"

James pulled his arm away from the she-beast sharply, cradling it to his chest. "How about standing up, walking to your rightful table over there, and leaving me alone?"

"But this is the last welcome feast I get to spend with you, James… after this you'll be… gone." Fiona scooted closer, only repelling James away.

"As it should have been your last three years ago, Finch-Fletchley."

"Don't be silly, I even ditched my girlfriends so I can spend our last welcome feast with you, Jamsies… here, the food's out!" Fiona squealed as the enormous platters of goodness appeared on the table.

"Well, it is equally annoying with just you here instead of the four of you fawning over me."

"Well _you _should know then, that those mean things you say just make me want you even more." Fiona giggled, placing a piece of turkey on his plate.

James heaved an exhausted sigh, rolling his eyes almost to the back of his head. Fiona continued to chatter away, the squeaky words spilling out of her mouth aggravating a growing pain in his ear. Looking around, his mind wandered back to the train ride, recent, vivid memories of the girl infiltrating his clouded thoughts.

_James fell back into his seat, resting his head on the window. Opening his eyes, he watched Heather slip her white collared shirt back on, her slender back facing him. _

"_Heather, right?"_

_She turned, halfway through buttoning her shirt. "I'm flattered that you remember."_

"_Quite frankly, I'm pretty sure I won't forget that for a while."_

_She chuckled as she walked over, pulling her blazer over her shirt, flicking her yellow hair out of her face. She sat in the space between his spread legs, watching him with a soft look on her face. _

"_That's good to know, Potter."_

"_Potter? So we're on surnames now, I see?"_

_Smiling, she placed her hand gently on his neck, bringing her head inches from his. "You don't even know mine."_

_Pausing, he realized she was right. Hell, he rarely bothered remembering first names – to learn a girl's last name in their first meeting would be earth-shattering. "Enlighten me."_

_Instead, Heather pulled his head toward hers, kissing him softly on his lips, to which he instantly reacted, pulling instinctively at her swollen, familiar lips. Just as he leaned his body forward, intensifying the kiss, she pulled back, leaning her forehead on his. _

_Before he could open his eyes again, she grabbed her bag and got up to the door; and before he could even stop her, she was gone._

"James?"

Fiona's high pitched voice cut through his thoughts once more. "What-"

As he turned around to face the chirpy Hufflepuff, a familiar figure near the entrance of the great hall caught his eye.

There she was, sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table, as if a spotlight was actually shining above her; how could he describe this – she was radiant.

"Well, I was just saying…"

"Fiona, I'm really tired of this. I don't know how to be clearer, but I really do not and never have had interest in you. You aggravate me so much that I can't even finish my last welcome feast. Please try not to bother me ever again." Standing up, James stalked over to the entrance, his eyes glued on Heather.

He knew she saw him as soon as he stood but she did not make it apparent around all her friends. From then, every second that passed without her acknowledging him drove him over the edge, his hands curling into fists.

As he neared, her eyes finally flicked up, meeting his – he almost instantly forgave her. His steps slowed, as the rest of the great hall began disappearing; like a scene from a movie, time seemed to slow down to accommodate, and she glowed in her seat as a small smile formed on her luscious lips.

"James!"

Fiona's sharp voice cut through the air, waking him into his senses. A small figure came bounding to his side, holding onto his arm with his dear life.

"It's going to take more than that to get me off your back, silly. You know I'm crazy about you." Nesting her head on his arm, Fiona trailed by him.

From the corner of his eyes, James could see Heather look away, laughing at a joke some oily looking bloke cracked next to her.

… not that it mattered to James. Because nothing mattered to James – hell, he needn't even be so shaken up like a little bitch, just by seeing a girl smile at him: that was just everyday life. So he was a bit blown away by this golden bombshell in the train: that was just an annual occurrence. This Heather… she was just like the rest of them.

Shoving his fists into his pockets, he continued to the door reluctantly, inwardly thanking Fiona for bringing him to his senses.

James leaned over to Fiona, rolling her eyes as she squirmed when her lips grazed her ear. "You will never be my girlfriend. I will probably never even sleep with you. Just stop acting so embarrassingly desperate, and I will walk you out this door."

It took every ounce of his energy to not look back behind him as he left the hall.

James sighed in frustration. It was going to be a very, very long night.

OOOOOOO

"The next item on the agenda is of great interest to many parents, as they've been asking about Professor Slughorn's "Slug Club," as affectionately named. The club's existence has been inevitable since it was first re-established, but now that the Professor has retired, its validity and meaningfulness has been brought to the staff's attention. Headmistress McGonagall has relayed that the staff would like the heads to discuss the future of the club, and whether it should be continued, closed, or… er, restructured. For now, I have asked the headmistress for more information on the official organization and presiding of the club…"

Dan Finnigan's words became silent, as Rose fell deeply into his mere presence, absorbing his standing posture, his firm lips as they spoke, his twinkling eyes, his charisma, his brilliance, his…

"Psst, Weasley, you're drooling."

Her hand immediately covering her mouth, Rose sat up, and turned to Sasha Parkinson who had tapped her with a wicked grin on her face. "Ah, thanks."

"Dan Finnigan, hm? Good choice… he seems like your type."

Flushing scarlet, Rose wiped her lips, looking away from Dan. "I… don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please, you know this is my specialty." Sighing, Sasha leaned back in her chair. "I just wish I can make your damn cousin feel the same way about me, and my life would be complete."

Rose widened her eyes, "Are you actually serious about Albus?"

Sasha snorted, receiving a nasty glare from Fiona Finch Fletchley across the table, to whom Sasha stuck out her tongue. "Rose Weasley, ever so naïve, thinking I might actually be serious about something for once. Thanks for that; it's good to know some people still have faith in me."

"Albus is a tough nut… I don't think any girl will be able to garner any interest in him unless she comes in book form."

The black haired girl sighed, resting her head in her hands. "My words exactly… That's what makes him so intriguing, I suppose."

Rose smiled. "But if you're serious about him, you should give it a shot. If anything, you are probably the closest girl to him, though I don't know if that says much since most of the female population has given up on my dear cousin."

"No worries, Rose… I don't think I can handle being serious about Albus Potter; my secret joy in life is watching him suffer." Winking, Sasha burst out in laughter.

"Parkinson, Weasley, please contain yourselves, the meeting is almost over." Rose whipped back around to the sound of Finnigan's voice, and she felt herself blushing once more, embarrassed.

"Sorry," the girls muttered, swinging back around.

"As I was saying, I will be posting the schedule for rounds tomorrow. Since the delay is mostly my fault, I will be conducting rounds with the head girl tonight. If there are no more questions, meeting is adjourned." Receiving a round of applause and a few celebratory yelps from the prefects, Dan looked around with a smile on his face, his eyes landing on Rose. Again, she flushed and turned around quickly, only to hear his voice call her name.

"Rose, a word?"

Sasha gave her a good nudge, jumping on Albus on his way out. Rose turned back to find Dan in front of her. She had to clamp her nails into her palm to keep from flushing red again. "Oh, ah, you called?"

"Here's Malfoy's detention slip… that bloke's a bit hard to find around school, so I'd appreciate it if you could deliver it to him?"

"Oh… yeah, I guess I can do that, I think I have class with Slytherins next."

"Thanks, and…"

"Sorry." Rose blurted, instantly regretting it.

Dan frowned slightly, "Sorry for what?"

"I mean… well you know, chatting with Parkinson while you were speaking… that was pretty rude of me… I just…"

A smile – the most gorgeous smile – broke out on his countenance, "We both know I wasn't aiming to scold you, Rose… nobody caught chatting with Sasha Parkinson is actually to blame."

Nervously chuckling, Rose looked down sheepishly, words just spilling clumsily out of her mouth. "And I guess I'm sorry about last night… I just… you kind of came at a pretty unfortunate time, you see… and your brother—"

"Rose." Dan tapped her chin, nudging it up to face him. "Again, you have nothing to apologize for. My brother is a bit of a… troublemaker and so is that Malfoy kid. I know you just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time." Dan grinned at her, his eyes sparkling; Rose's knees felt weak. "If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I lost my temper in front of you, and that was wrong of me."

"Ah, no… it was some pretty good disciplining. You make a strong head boy." Rose wanted to faint – she had to get herself out of there before she confessed her undying love for him on the spot.

"You're too kind." Dan smiled once more, "But thanks. It means a lot, especially from you, Rose." For a moment, Dan seemed to almost pierce through her eyes into her soul, catching her in the most electrifying gaze she had ever experienced.

Rose was now speechless, as she gaped back at him. "Yeah…"

Packing his bag, Dan walked to the door; the room had emptied by then. Holding the door open for her, he patted her shoulder as she stumbled by. "See you around, Rose."

Rose almost bolted down the stairs, unable to get the sound of his voice saying her name; the touch of his fingers on her chin and shoulder – her skin was still tingling.

She barely saw the figure climbing up the winding staircase on the other side, and when the other student appeared out of nowhere, she staggered sideways and fell back with a small cry.

"Watch it Weasley, there's nowhere in this castle worth running to."

"I…" Rose looked up to see Scorpius towering over her. "Sorry."

Scorpius shrugged. "No use apologizing when you're the one on the floor." After a brief moment of hesitation, he reached down and picked up her bag, holding it out for her as she got up.

"Thanks." Taking her bag, they stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments – or, she stared awkwardly as a frown formed on his thin face.

"Well, Weasley, I'm not sure what your intention is, but if you are going to just stare at me like I am some zoo animal, I shall be off." As Scorpius turned to continue up the stairs, Rose finally remembered why she was stuck on him.

"Oh, wait, I actually have something to give you." Digging deep into the pockets of her robes, she pulled out the detentions slip Dan had just given her.

Scorpius stared at the paper in front of him blankly. "What's this."

"It's about your detention… you know… from last night?" At that moment, Rose realized she needed to do something about her blushing problem, as she felt her cheeks grow warmer.

He scoffed under his breadth, taking the sheet from her. "Finnigan really is serious about his job, isn't he."

"It's not a bad thing – he's just doing his job." Rose defended, a little too passionately. She received a questioning arched eyebrow.

"If you think so… well then, I suppose I am forced to go," he said, glancing over the paper, and then her with an unreadable look on his face.

Rose bit her lips in guilt – she also had to do something about her speech impediment: verbal diarrhea. "I mean, not that you deserved detention or anything. I really… I'm sorry it happened. You were just helping me."

"I won't argue that, but you really need to stop apologizing for other people, Weasley. It's a bad habit."

"Sorry."

Scorpius looked at her, a slightly amused smirk on his lips.

"Old habits die hard." She explained.

"Hah…" He looked away, his smile disappearing, and sighed. "Someone once told me it's a selfish thing to do."

"What is…?"

"Apologizing. You might think it's the proper thing to do, but apologizing is people's way of talking their way out of their wrongdoing. If you really are apologetic, you should do something about it, instead of saying a little empty word."

"I…" Once more, she was speechless.

"Actions speak louder than words, Weasley, remember that." Nodding, Scorpius left her dumbfounded on the steps. She could swear she saw that damned smirk on his lips as he glided up the stairs.

"I need a nap." She said out loud to herself.

"You sure do, dear." The portrait of an old grandmother next to her, which had apparently watched the scene unfold in front of her, agreed.

Walking back to her dormitory in a daze, only one thing was for certain: Scorpius Malfoy sure had a way of making her – Rose Weasley, quite easily dubbed the nicest and sweetest pushover in all of Hogwarts – feel like a horrible person.

OOOOOO

Albus heard her laughing before she even reached the doorway of their classroom. Before he could even turn around to watch her come in, she had already plopped down in the seat next to him.

"Miss me?"

"It's been one hour since the meeting, Parkinson."

"One hour is a full day for you and me, Potter. Don't deny it, love, nothing good comes from lying to yourself."

"I also know nothing good comes from sitting next to you. I'm going to go find Rose." Albus gathered his bag and stood up to leave when Sasha grabbed his arm and yanked him back down.

"Prefects stick to prefects, Al, don't you know?"

"Please enlighten me how you ever became a prefect – I've been dying to know since last year."

"Easy. Two words: killer legs," Sasha said, winking.

"Oh yes, and was Professor McGonagall easy to seduce?"

"Eh, easier than you, at least."

Before Albus could think of a clever comeback, his virtual half brother came waltzing in through the door of the potions dungeon.

"I am Ted Lupin, potions master. Welcome to your worst nightmare." Whipping his robe around—only after slamming his books on his table—Ted gave the classroom one hard look before falling into a fit laughter. "I just always wanted to do that. Really, call me Ted. I was sitting in your seat only a few years ago. Most of you probably recognize me. I was rather popular."

Albus rolled his eyes and muttered, "Did he just wink?"

"I think he's charming." Sasha whispered back, a large smile on her face – in fact, most of the girls in the classroom were wearing the same, goofy smile.

"I also have another announcement to make, and this one's a bit serious since it comes from my boss." Ted cleared his throat, though he already had everyone's (girls) attention. "This is regarding Professor Slughorn's so called 'Slug Club' that has resided in this school up to his retirement. Your professors have been discussing long and hard on what to do with the club, and they have decided that until another professor decides to take over."

The Slug Club had previously only been reserved for sixth and seventh years, with a few exceptions. Naturally, in a classroom of sixth years, the news launched a frenzy of whispers and curiosity.

"Now, your professors, believe it or not, are very busy people. Believe me. I never thought so myself, but they are, and none of them were very willing to step up and take responsibility over this giant network."

Albus looked down at his potions book, not knowing how to react. He never had much interest in the club, at least outwardly, but he knew he was definitely a prime candidate and his membership in the club was most expected. He could see Sasha watching him from the corner of his eyes, silently for once.

"However, because I am just that amazing, and as a former member of the Slug Club myself, I have decided to resurrect the club and preside over it. You're welcome. Yes, yes, thank me after class, please." Ted smiled brightly as the class erupted in yelps and applause. Albus felt Sasha nudge him on his side, grinning at him knowingly – in the celebratory atmosphere of the class, even Albus couldn't help but to grin as well.

"Professor, how do you plan on organizing the club? Will it be anything like how Professor Slughorn did it?" One student asked suspiciously. Professor Slughorn was notorious for being as selective and elitist as possible.

The classroom was silent once more, watching their professor intently for his response. Ted cleared his throat, glancing around with shifty eyes. "Ah yes, about that… this time, there will be changes. You see, one of the problems the professors had with the club was related to how, er, the selection process was administered. In assuring the return of the club, I have guaranteed open admission to all sixth and seventh years."

"Things just got interesting" Sasha muttered, looking around the classroom that had fallen into a frantic fit once more. Albus could hear whispers of his peers around him complain, "What's the point, then?" and "Shouldn't have even bothered bringing the club back."

Ted stood silently in front of the class, waiting for everyone to calm down and regain their focus. Eventually, the students settled down, all facing Ted with watchful, less loving eyes. Still, Ted maintained his vague smile. "I knew this would disappoint many of you, so I've devised a rather complicated system this year that requires a lot more time and effort to explain, so keep your eyes open for more news. For now, I'd really like to begin class…"

Albus was lost in thought. The slug club. Al barely remembered his parents once mocking the club, ridiculing the dreadful parties while retelling the story of their awkward romantic beginning. Then, when James was almost immediately picked up by Slughorn the year before, he remembered how much his brother boasted, how he spoke of the club so highly as if he and his club members were part of an underground society with so many secrets and exclusive rules. Their parents said nothing, but Al knew they secretly disproved; the Slug Club bred elitism. Everyone knew it – it was an inevitable fact. Even the most humble students, without publicly displaying their membership, were watched and admired by the rest of the "ordinary students," while the slug club claimed rights to the top of the student body hierarchy.

Albus hated the Slug Club and everything it stood for, yet its power and allure was impossible to ignore. Once his father ended the war, there was no other way to determine status in the school, and the slug club offered exactly that. So, despite all the opposition from students, staff, and parents, the club remained to flourish and branch out its delicately corrupt, convoluted, and disturbing roots to a few students every year.

James had a way of bragging about it that made Al hate the club even more: he'd come home and go on and on about the benefits and how _great _it was, and when Al, Lily, or any of their cousins would inquire what it was they actually did, James would just wear a proud smile on his face and say nothing. This silence, this mystery drove Al over the edge. His father would occasionally assure his kids that all the club actually did was drink tea and listen to Slughorn boast about his previous successes, but nobody could be certain.

"Al."

Albus jerked his head up, his thoughts interrupted as Sasha whispered his name sharply and nudged his knees with hers. He turned to look at her, the same amused grin on her face.

"Page forty."

Looking down at his closed potions book, Al shook his head, flipping the page.

"Thinking about the club, huh. Looks like it's on everyone's minds."

He didn't answer. He thought it was pretty obvious.

"There's no doubt you'll get in, Al, you're goddamn Albus Potter."

"I don't care about the club."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't. I sometimes forget you don't care about anything."

Again, he couldn't find it in himself to answer. After all, he was aware they were still in class, and allowing Sasha Parkinson to distract you would be a fatal mistake – this he knew from experience.

"Personally, though, I don't care for the club either."

Albus raised an eyebrow, slightly curious. He didn't know a single person who wasn't interested in the club. "That's a surprise."

"Why? You thought I'd do anything to get into the club and meet my future husband to leech off of for the rest of my life?"

Albus shrugged. "That sounds about right."

"It does sound lovely, doesn't it?" Class dismissed, students began clamoring out of the dungeon, talks of the club wild in the air. Sasha grabbed her book and threw it in her bag, throwing it over her shoulder with a smirk. "Sounds like something my mother would do."

With an unreadable expression on her face, she stomped away, leaving Albus alone for the first time that year.

Al trailed back behind his classmates, alone, an inescapable presence on his arm strangely missing.

OOOOOOO

A/N:

Wow there was so much more I wanted to get into this chapter, like another James/Heather and Rose/Scorpius but… I didn't realize how long this was until just now so yay! Shorter chapter.

Now that I've dodged the bullet, yes, I am a horrible person. I have failed to update any of my stories for probably over a year. What a shame to this world I am… I am honestly quite ashamed of myself. But what can I do? I can't force myself to write; I've found I come out with word diarrhea. I guess I suddenly just had this inspiration for this chapter and I've been writing nonstop for 3 days now.

Anyway, even so, the greatest inspiration to me is getting feedback; your reviews are what keep me going because they tell me what I need to fix, what I'm doing right, what people like and what people don't, so PLEASE REVIEW! It helps SO much, even if it's nothing nice to say…

Anyway, happy new years everyone! Hopefully this year, I won't be such a failure! =)

RRR PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE


	3. Apathy

It was autumn – leaves turning every shade of auburn, the birds flocking in the air, the grass majestically tall and green. Next to the Whomping Willow overlooking the Great Lake, the figure stood, staring out into nothingness.

The bed of grass cushioned her steps as she cut through the field toward the knobby tree. The man by the lake remained, his back straight and the subtle indentations of his muscles teasing her through his dark, knitted sweater.

She took a few more steps, his full figure coming to view; he turned.

As she stumbled even closer, she could see his beautiful pink lips form a smile. "Rose."

A hand – she took it. He tugged gently, and she followed his movement as she could feel his warmth nearing. His hand was surprisingly warm against the sharp breeze of the autumn air. As he pulled her closer, he let go of his hand, enveloping his arms around her. She fell into his chest, broad, sturdy – _safe._

"Rose…"

She couldn't speak. She could hear and feel his chest under her ear, and she never wanted him to let go.

"Rose…"

_Dan__… _His distinct scent, subtle but strong, light and earthy, intoxicating…

"Rose… Rose…"

She sighed deeply into his arms. "Mm, yes?"

"Rose"

She could listen to him say her name for eternity, the way that one syllable rolled off his tongue so smoothly – she chuckled softly.

"Rose… Rose… Rose! Rose wake up! Rose! Bloody hell-"

Rose stirred in her sheets, scowling. "Bloody hell,"

"Sorry to disturb your pleasant dream but," the curtains around her bed were whipped open, letting the blinding sun glare down on Rose's slumber, "I figured you'd want to check the bulletin."

Shoving her head deep into her pillow, Rose groaned loudly. "Bloody hell Lily, what could possibly be so important you must wake me up this early on a Saturday?"

"Well I'm sorry sleeping beauty, but I have news I thought you'd find interesting…" Lily smacked the figure curled up under the thick scarlet sheets. "Come on, your dear cousin's posted up a sign-up sheet for the Slug Club first thing this morning – everyone's been talking about it."

That caught her attention. "The Slug Club?" Rose raised her head from deep within her 250 thread count Egyptian Cotton.

She could almost hear Lily smirking with glee, "I knew that'd get your attention."

"Oh shush," Rose slowly sat up in her bed, facing her cousin who had now taken it upon herself to shuffle through Rose's trunk. "What – bloody hell Lily, what are you doing?"

"I've already worn all my dress robes once, I was looking for that one you got two Christmases ago and never wore – much like practically all your dress robes, it seems…" Lily was practically buried in the trunk now, digging deeper. "And if you actually got your lazy arse out of bed and read the bulletin, you would be more concerned as well."

Groaning, Rose pulled out of bed, her feet searching for her soft dormitory slippers. Pulling her awfully tangled hair into a sorry attempt at a bun, she grabbed her robe and descended down the stairs into the common room where it appeared as if the entire Gryffindor house was congregated, talking and squealing animatedly.

Oh how Rose hated large crowds. Scanning the room, she stopped at the corner, right by the bottom of the stairway where her cousin Albus was perched alone, an almost identical frown spread across his pale face.

"I think you're in the wrong common room, Al." Rose said, as she approached him from behind.

He turned and scowled. "I'm starting to think I'm in the wrong world. Is it possible to despise your own species so much?"

"Mmm, yes." Rose stood by him, observing the scene before them. "Is this about the Slug Club?"

"To my many regrets, yes it is. Came here to see you, actually."

"Oh? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I assume you haven't read the big news yet, but I'm afraid my dear god-brother is up to something."

"Does this have anything to do with this open enrollment rubbish he announced in class?"

Albus sighed and shrugged. "I think it's related." Reaching into his pants, he pulled out a small parchment. "He's practically advertising the club, Rose. Not that it's much of my concern, but this is Ted; I know there's something behind this."

Staring at the parchment, Rose glossed over its content.

**THE SLUG CLUB TASK #1**

Welcome student, to The Slug Club**.**As of recently, the club is open to all 6th and 7th year students – but bear in mind that only those who can withstand the challenges that may face you in the following weeks shall officially be admitted to this group.

If you are holding this, it means you have signed up to take part in this adventure. This document is your token of dedication and devotion to this club and its activities. Do not lose it.

For the following weeks, you will be assigned various tasks to prove your capabilities. Everyone is welcome to join, but only a few will succeed, as becoming a member of The Slub Club is not a right, nor even a privilege, but a test – a test of your inner and outer strength, courage, skill, cunning, loyalty, intelligence, and power.

This week, you are to find a date to The Slug Club's Grand Opening Gala. Your date must be from another house. On the bottom of this parchment, you are to write the name of your date. Meet promptly at 7:00 PM, the room of requirement, this coming Saturday.

Cheers.

Professor Ted Lupin

Rose reread the notice a handful of times before handing it back to her cousin. "Is this a joke?"

Albus scoffed. "I wish, but no, my dear cousin, it is not a joke. The sign-up list is on every bulletin board in the school, and the task letter is delivered to you promptly after. I didn't want to do this, but I just had to know what it was Ted was planning with the sign-up list…" Albus sighed. "Just thought I'd come by and warn you before you had to see it for yourself."

Rose nodded. Albus and Rose always had a tacit agreement for their wariness of society. Both their families had been subjected to torturous and suffocating attention from the rest of the world since their births, but Rose and Albus seemed to always hold a particular grudge against it. For Albus, the pressure was even more so relevant: son of Harry Potter, named after two Hogwarts professors, charming brother who could get away with virtually anything, his notorious Slytherin sorting, and lieu of cousins including Rose who he had to constantly fight to be recognized over.

As his closest cousin, Rose always felt pity for her cousin, but her empathy was mostly fueled by her own feelings of inadequacy – most of the reason she was able to understand his suffering so well.

"Thanks, Al." Handing back Albus' golden ticket into the club, she sighed. "No wonder your dear sister had to drop by so early to look for a dress robe… She must be trying to get into this gala."

Albus groaned. "Knowing my sister, she'll be throwing herself at any moving 6th or 7th year holding this piece of parchment."

"You do know you are not safe from her either; she probably didn't expect you to sign up so she hasn't bothered you yet, but once she catches drift that her dear single-and-not-ready-to-mingle brother has this document, she will be bulldozing straight into you."

"Well if she's capable of even convincing me to consider going, I'll be damned."

"You're not going?"

Albus shrugged. "I never had, do not have, nor will have any intention of joining this damned club."

"And yet you signed yourself up."

"I told you, I had to see what Ted was up to."

"Al, I know you quite well. And I know when you truly have no interest in something." Patting her cousin's arm, Rose smiled. "Your curiosity – that is the opposite of apathy." She took a step away, looking at the bulletin board that was now clearing up as students clamored to breakfast.

"Don't tell me you're signing yourself up too."

"I…"

"I never pegged you to be interested in this elitist society, Rose, especially since you and I both know how we live and breathe it outside of these castle walls."

Biting her lip, Rose turned back to look at Albus, confusion and slight betrayal in his eyes. "I – don't you find it… slightly necessary? I mean, not for our families or our pasts or anything but… you know, as prefects. And for Ted…"

Albus' eyebrows furrowed into a frown again. "Don't toss around Ted's name or your prefect status as an excuse, Rose." Shoving the parchment back into his pants, Albus looked away glowered at her. "I guess I should have expected it as well – after all, there isn't a test out there that Rose Weasley is determined to pass. I guess this is no different."

Turning swiftly on his heel, Albus made his way to the portrait hole, leaving Rose alone in the common room. "I just thought… maybe you can look past all this and see the club the way I see it – the way you once saw it too."

"Al," Rose called, but it was too late, as she could do nothing but watch the portrait swing behind him.

In truth, she still understood his view, as they would often mock the elitist organization at every family gathering, after having been put through hours of James' babbling stories of the club. She despised Slughorn's segregation of the extraordinary and the ordinary, even though she knew her and her family were easily on top of his special list of special students.

But she also believed in fighting and proving one's greatness; that was why she worked so hard in school to reach the expectations held by her family, the school, and the rest of the wizarding world for her success. She was equally shocked when Ted announced the open enrollment for the Slug Club in class, and a part of her was rather intrigued.

Albus was right though. She felt a slight wave of shame wash over her as she was slowly lured to the sign-up sheet. Maybe Albus was right, maybe ultimately, the club was still what it always had been: a calculated, institutionalized method of weeding out and labeling the cream of the crop; of defining the line between the average and the exemplary, a mere tool for elitist hierarchy.

When she stopped at the list, however, her heart dropped. At the top of the list stood the one name she knew would convince her and enable her to ignore Albus' betrayed reaction.

Dan Finnigan

Of course, the Head Boy – he had no reason to not take part. Every Head Boy had been a member of the Slug Club since she could remember.

The most recent memory of Albus' tense exit escaped her, and all her mixed feelings toward the club seemed to vanish as Rose picked up the quill next to the long list and etched her name ever so carefully.

* * *

"Why don't you look even moodier than usual, pumpkin. Haven't seen your lips pout like that since… well, probably all my wet dreams."

Albus gave Sasha Parkinson no response, which was precisely the response he knew she hated the most. Staring into his bowl of oatmeal blankly, he stirred his coffee mindlessly.

Sasha grabbed the croissant off his plate and plopped down in the seat next to him. "I was looking for you this morning."

"Well it's still morning, and you've found me. Congratulations."

"Oh, Mr. Grumpy-pants, I went to your room to find you after that list was posted, but you were already gone."

"Yeah, well, I had to see someone first."

Sasha arched an eyebrow, "A rendezvous? Should I be jealous?"

Albus chose not to respond.

"Scratch that, I already am. To think you're already trying to replace me, really Potter, that's heart breaking."

"Why would you ever think I'd want to replace you?" Taking a sip of his coffee, he smirked when he saw her break into a teasing smile. "I'd have to get rid of you first to replace you, and you have been sure to make that absolutely, goddamn impossible."

Her smile froze, the brilliant spark in her eye dimming. Albus felt something within his gut stir, making him scowl in slight regret. "Sorry," he muttered.

This time, she didn't respond as she turned her head forward, staring at the tables in front of them.

They sat in silence for awhile, both observing the scene in front of them – something they both seemed to find common ground in doing. When Sasha was not too busy badgering him, questioning him, harassing him, or jumping on him, she had her moments of silent watching. This was one of her (few) characteristics Albus appreciated, mostly because it was also one of his most beloved pastimes. He and Rose were always especially talented at the art of people-watching, and it wasn't until he met Sasha that he realized they were not the only ones with the same hobby.

It also didn't help that sometimes, Sasha's silence was rewarding and he treasured those moments as long as he could.

Keeping his head locked in place, he watched at the girl next to him from the corner of his eye. She chewed on her (his) croissant slowly, her sharp black eyes focused and thoughtful. He could not quite discern what she was exactly looking at, but her eyes fell to the general direction of the Gryffindor table. For some strange reason, he began to feel slightly guilty for snapping at her for no real reason.

Pouring a glass of orange juice, he placed the cup in front of her. "It's been a rough morning."

"Oh yeah? I couldn't tell."

Albus shook his head, choosing to ignore her biting sarcasm. "Did you hear the news?"

"What – did a grumpy, old senile grandpa climb up your ass and possess you?"

"No," Albus sighed, "Look I'm sorry I snapped at you, okay? Ted's little club is stirring up a lot of commotion, and you know how I despise commotion."

"The club? What about it?"

"The sign-up sheets were posted this morning over all the bulletin boards. Didn't you see?"

"You know I don't pay much attention to those things," Sasha smirked, "I believe ignorance is bliss."

Albus rolled his eyes, "I forget you use that as an excuse to miss all your prefect rounds whenever the new rotations are posted."

"Well if that's what this is about, don't you dare ruin the surprise."

He shook his head. "I think this will be of more interest to you." Pulling out the parchment he received this morning, along with dozens of other students, Al handed her the first "task."

He watched as she read the letter, her reaction oddly subdued as she re-read it over and over again. Finally, she looked up, handing him the parchment again. "Here."

Taking it back, he held it, unsure of what to do with it. "The whole school's been reeling. Never seen so many excited, eager to please faces before – so early in the school year too."

"I'm assuming you signed up?" Sasha asked, detached.

"I – well, yes, but I had to see what Ted was up to with that list and…"

"I thought you had no intention of joining the club."

"I don't! Like I said, I had to see for myself what everyone was…"

"Oh, and since when did Albus Potter ever care about what everyone else was saying or doing?"

"Bloody hell," that witch… "Look, I signed up to get the task; doesn't mean I'm actually going through with it."

"I don't know whether to be more surprised that you cared enough to sign up, or that you're actually planning on not completing a task. Neither seems very becoming of you, to be honest."

"Well, I don't know whether to be more surprised that you didn't sign up yourself, or that you're so disapproving of what I did, considering the Slug Club is perfect feeding ground for you to dip your feet and polish your claws in." Albus retorted, his head pounding. Sasha remained untouched, her eyes still dispassionately glazing over the great hall in front of them.

Her silence grew cold, and Albus began to feel uneasy for the first time in a terrifically long time. He couldn't help but do anything and watch her in case she burst out at him, as she normally did.

Sighing, he muttered, "Sorry," and turned away.

Sipping her juice, her eyes narrowed, deep in thought. Finally, she spoke, her eyes still avoiding him. "Potter, I know I've been more a pain to you than anything, but I also happen to know that nobody – sadly – knows you like I do. And I know that Albus Potter does not apologize three times to the same person in one morning, unless something really is bothering him."

She turned to look at him, her dark eyes serious and for once, sincere. "The opposite of love is not hate. It's apathy. You can make jabs about me and my tendencies all you want. But I will not tolerate your hypocrisy, especially because I know it stems from your pride and your inability to admit to yourself that you may not like the club and this whole notion of elitism, but you care about it. And you're obsessed with it."

"Obsessed? Really now…" Albus scoffed in disbelief.

"You can deny it all you want, Potter, but the truth is, you signed your name on the list, you've been holding onto the first task all day, sulking in your corner, accusing me of caring about this club as much as you do, and making it everyone else's fault when really, it's you."

"Who said I was actually going to do this bloody task?"

"No one said it, no one has to." Giving him one last knowing glare before leaving, Sasha leaned in and whispered in his ear, "You know you will. It's in your damn blood."

* * *

Tossing his parchment aside, James stared out the window into the fiery autumn outdoors. Standing up, he made sure to step on his "task" before pulling a hoodie over his shirt and grabbing his broom.

The air was crisp and clean, his favorite. He avoided the large groups of students lounging around, as he was in no mood to deal with mankind – not this morning.

He deliberately took the long, shady route to the field, gripping his firebolt, leaving the mindless chatter about the gala behind him. As a previous member of the club, James of course did not approve of what Ted Lupin had turned his prized society into: a silly, enabling game for fangirls, egotistical blokes, and nobodies.

There was no doubt James had a proper upbringing. His parents and relatives were some of the most humble, modest people he met; in fact, his grandfather virtually detached himself from the wizarding world, and now spent most of his free time exploring what the muggles had to offer. Every week or so, he would come around with a shiny new gadget, poring over its spectacular and mind-blowing technology – how a tiny rectangular object can play music, communicate with others, play games, record sounds, take photos, etc.

Despite his younger brother's dogmatic stance on the club, James never believed that the club was merely an accumulation of self-loving, status-obsessed, elitist fools, pampered by Slughorn and wrongly revered by the rest of the school. It was his escape. At the clubs, nobody clamored to him or bothered him about his family and all their accomplishments; instead, people boasted of their own families and accomplishments. It was refreshing, not being in the spotlight for once. He never felt out of place.

But now, Ted Lupin, his beloved god-brother, had turned it into a… what were his words – a "test." And one thing James Potter hated more than anything was a test.

Rounding up to the field, he hurriedly brushed by a group of fourth years gathering up their equipment. None of them looked all too familiar, meaning they were new to the sport and were probably practicing for Quidditch tryouts that were coming up soon. Smirking, he looked up to find that only one other player was in the air, speedily flying laps around the span of the field.

Lifting himself gently off the ground, he observed the flyer more carefully. His speed was surprisingly quite swift, especially for flying only laps. He would reach the hoops, make a loop around them, and continue.

_A __seeker_… James guessed, inferring from the flyer's mindless direction and unrelenting agility. After 6 full years in this school, and a lifetime with his family, James had gained an impeccable eye in discerning the positions people played from their warm-ups. The fact that this flyer was flying solo meant that he was a Beater, Chaser, or Seeker, and the fact that he lacked a bat narrowed it down to the latter two. Furthermore, Chasers focused more on tricks, and also tended to fly more closely to the goals, while Seekers… well, of course, James would know best.

Flying higher, James approached the other player. Only a few moments later, the figure came flying toward him, his presence still not realized.

"Excuse me," James called out. The other flyer halted and looked down. From below, James caught a glimpse of the platinum blonde hair that was unmistakably, "Malfoy."

"Potter."

Smirking, James pointed his broom up and flew to his rival.

"Pleasure seeing you here, Malfoy. Good to know you're preparing so that your defeat this season will be much more gratifying."

"Pleasure is always mine, Potter."

"What brings you out to the pitch this lovely morning?"

"Well as you said, it's a lovely morning."

"Ah, yes, indeed it is." James chuckled, "Only the second week of school and already on the field. Your captain must be proud of your dedication."

"I've been on the field since last week, actually, but I suppose you've been too busy chasing skirts and thinking about yourself."

"Oh you know me too well. I suppose attempting to out-do my seeking for the past 3 years can teach you something. Lesson one: get a head start, eh?" James could feel Scorpius getting peeved, one juvenile hobby he just could not give up since Scorpius joined the Slytherin team as seeker his third year. "Very impressive, I may just root for you this year."

"Spare me the pity, Potter, I don't need it coming from you."

Maybe it was the beautiful weather, or the annoyance James dealt with in the morning regarding the club, but he just could not help himself as he inched his broom closer to Scorpius, his tongue ready for a verbal (and perhaps physical) dispute over absolutely nothing.

"For your own interest, I think it's best you take anything you can get, especially since the snitch is not one of them."

"Anything I can get? I'm sorry I don't pick support the same way you pick your girls."

James could feel his insides warming up. "Oh, I didn't know you paid such close attention to my love life, Malfoy. I'm flattered, really."

"Well don't flatter yourself, I'm just observant. I don't bother much with the Hogwarts stream of scandals and gossip, since it usually involves you and your family."

"Ah… and if I may, what is it that bothers you so much about me and my family?"

Scorpius shrugged, an unreadable expression on his face. "To be honest, Potter, nothing."

James frowned. "Well then, what is your reason for being a social outcast, if you are not bothered by my family?"

James saw Scorpius chuckle, his insides boiling as the blonde smirked. "You all are the same, always thinking it's about you. I have my own reasons for doing the things I do, Potter, your family does not affect me. Just like how I have my own reasons for flying, or for avoiding all this nonsensical drama."

"I suppose you think you ignorance is worthwhile? Well, take my advice, Malfoy, there's a reason you haven't won the Quidditch Cup yet. All accomplishments take drive, determination, and passion. Quidditch is not just a sport, it's a game, and it's important to be able to understand and take into account all the factors in the world and environment where the game takes place."

Scorpius paused, staring carefully at James for a few moments in silence. "You and I both know everything outside the game itself is a distraction. You have talent, Potter, that is why you win. You let yourself get distracted because you can."

Raising his eyebrows, James smirked, "I'm flattered-"

"Don't be, because that does not mean I look up to you, honor you, or respect you in any way. You always got what you wanted without really trying. That does not make you a better person because anything you've ever won was never earned."

James felt his blood boiling, his face flushed. "Now listen-"

"Drive, determination, passion? You and I both know you lack all three – you pride yourself on being the lazy and underachieving hero. And that kills you, doesn't it? You've never really sought out to achieve something, to challenge yourself; to never have felt failure means you've never felt true success. I don't need your pity because I pity you, Potter." Those grey stormy eyes gave James one final, unnerving gaze before pointing his broom downward and making his descent.

For a strange reason, James was infuriated. These were the most words he had ever exchanged with the Malfoy, and he could now understand why they were always so strained; had James encountered Malfoy earlier in his school life, there was no telling as to how many times James would have received detention for ambushing the egotistical bastard with the _nerve_to say such a thing…

"Oy! Malfoy!" James' hot temper got to the better of him as he felt his shaking hands point his broom down behind Malfoy's and chase him down. Malfoy had just landed on the field and was undoing his Quidditch gear; James jumped off his broom right next to him.

"Oy, you have a problem you bring it up with me to my face, you got that?" James said, marching toward the blonde who was quietly packing up his bag and taking off his robe. His silence enraged James even more.

"You heard me? You tell your captain that I'm warning all of you to watch out because you haven't seen _anything_yet."

Scorpius finally looked up, a questionable smirk on his lips. "Tell him yourself, then." Crossing his arms over his chest, Scorpius dropped his bag and stood facing him.

James paused, piecing his words together. "Ah… you've been promoted, I see? In that case, I believe I have no holding back-" James could no longer control his movements as he felt himself launching himself at the Malfoy boy, his apathetic demeanor irresistibly irritating.

James' fist swung back, and before he knew it, was attacking the Malfoy, throwing him on the ground. He couldn't discern where all his anger had come from, but Malfoy had definitely pushed the wrong buttons and messed with the wrong Potter. Soon after, Malfoy landed a hit across his cheek, bringing James down to the ground as well.

"JAMES!"

James froze mid-swing and in his brief break, Malfoy pushed his body off of him; both boys were panting as James stumbled to stand up, looking up at the figure that had screamed his name.

"JAMES POTTER WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

He saw his beloved red-headed cousin furiously marching over to where the two boys had been sprawled, her hair flying against the wind and her eyes so dangerously sharp, they reminded him of his mother's eyes that one weekend he was sent home in his second year for blowing up the girl's laboratory.

"Rose…"

"Are you _trying_to get suspended again? You're a bloody SEVENTH YEAR now, how could you be so juvenile for picking fist fights out on the bloody field?" Rose shrieked, now standing between the two boys, facing him.

"Merlin, Rose, you're making me deaf." James muttered, immediately beating himself for his word vomit.

"WHAT?" She took a few steps forward, only inches away from him, her intense stare deadly. She never broke eye contact, glaring at him for what seemed like years until she finally stepped back and looked away. "Absolutely unbelievable – I have the most immature family ever, great."

"Look, Rose, I'm sorry, but this git-"

"You say another word, James Potter, and I will make sure you NEVER make a sorry excuse again." Turning around, she looked down at Malfoy who was watching their interaction from the ground, wiping off the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Are- are you okay?"

Scorpius nodded, standing up and reaching for his bag on the ground.

"I don't know what exactly happened but I saw James lunge at you. I'm sorry."

Scorpius looked up at Rose, wiping his lips again. "What're you sorry for now, Weasley?"

Rose blinked a few times, staring blankly back at him. "I- uh… James is sorry."

"No I'm not" James mumbled reflexively, earning himself another piercing Weasley-woman glare.

The blonde chuckled, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "One too quick to apologize, the other too stubborn. What an interesting family." Turning around, Scorpious made his way away from the cousins toward the castle.

"Rose…"

"I don't understand James. You're the eldest of us all. Both your little sister and my little brother are in school now and look up to you like a role model. The least you can do is _be_one."

"It's been a rough morning."

Rose sighed deeply, "You and your brother both – look, just because you guys have rough mornings does not mean you can make it rough on everyone around you. Merlins, you both need to start realizing that your words and actions affect people and spread. Stop acting like a child and start lashing out at the world. You're better than this."

Whipping around, Rose stalked off, leaving James on the pitch, more aggravated than ever.

Another bloody fantastic day.

Back in his room, James threw his broom aside and made his way to his window. As he stepped to open it for fresh air, he heard a crackling of paper under his feet; looking down, he saw: **THE****SLUG****CLUB****TASK****#1**.

He stared below him for a long time before picking up the paper he had discarded, Malfoy's words coming back to him…

"..._You pride yourself on being the lazy and underachieving hero. And th__at kills you doesn't it? Youv'e never really sought out to achieve something, to challenge yourself; to never have felt failure means you've never felt true success. I don't need your pity because I pity you, Potter."_

A test.

Perhaps that is what he really needed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N:

HELLO ALL! Long time no see… I have no excuses as to why I haven't updated in a while except that I really don't write anymore, and these rare moments/days of inspiration are what they are: VERY RARE. But indeed, Happy Thanksgiving! I think having had the full day to myself, lying around, watching TV, doing nothing, has given me this chance to feel inspired enough to write a chapter. I really do care for this story and I have some neat scenes planned out in my head, but I am also a college student trying to get recruited for jobs hence I really don't have time for this (SAD STORY T_T)… BUT THE NEXT BREAK IS COMING UP IN 3 WEEKS! And I think I've figured out that breaks = story writing factory for me so please don't give up on me! And keep reviewing because you know that's what keeps me going Have a good one guys! I will update in three weeks (or maybe less :O )

TA TA

P.S: REVIEW! VVVVVVV


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